


Entr'acte

by LadyBrettAshley



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Apologies, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben and Rey aren't really great for one another in this story, Ben is 4 Years Older than Rey, Ben is kind of controlling, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happily Ever After If You Squint, I will once again reiterate this is an ambiguous/open ending, M/M, Mention of loss of virginity, Mentions of Casual Relationship between Rey and Cassian, Mentions of a Casual Relationship, New Year's Eve, No Pregnancy, No Underage Sex, Pining, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Rey was very young and unsure, Size Kink, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Weddings, church wedding, no beta we die like men, seriously, thigh humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrettAshley/pseuds/LadyBrettAshley
Summary: Ben hasn’t been back to his hometown since she’d refused his proposal.That was two years ago.He returns to attend the wedding of his childhood best friend, but he knows this one’s gonna hurt like hell.Because he’ll be forced to see her- the one who not only told him no, but didn’t tell him to stay.-Part of the #ReyloEvermore collection.Inspired by the song "Champagne Problems" by Taylor Swift.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Casual Rey/Casian, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 126
Kudos: 167
Collections: Reylo Evermore Flash Fic





	1. Sit Here in This Hurt

It’s six o’clock on New Year’s Eve and Ben Solo is already exhausted.

Upon entering the chapel, he spots his mother’s hair immediately; her silver locks are tangled in braids and pinned to her head. A solid bun rests at the nape of her neck. His father, sitting to her right, nudges her and makes a face which causes her to laugh. She turns to face him and straightens his black tie, tucking a piece of fabric into the knot at his neck.

Ben plods down the main aisle framed in rose petals and focuses on the backs of his parents' heads. His heartbeat thumps in his ears, but it's not loud enough to drown out the whispers wafting around him.

_ Ben came after all. _

_ Can you believe he showed up? _

_ Well, Han and Leia are here and his sister is a bridesmaid. _

_ And he and Armie used to be best friends. It would be weird if Ben wasn’t invited. _

_ It’s weird that he’s not in the bridal party.  _

_ Well, you know who else is a bridesmaid. _

He takes care to step over the mound of red rose petals as he enters his parents’ pew. Sidestepping, he unbuttons his black suit jacket and sits before his mother can stand to give him a hug.

It’s been two years since he’s been home. Sure, his parents had come to visit his new place, but there’s something about seeing them in his hometown that feels so comfortably unnerving. 

Leia smiles, taking Ben’s hand in hers and she strokes his knuckles gently. “I’m glad you came,” she says, her voice low.

Ben releases a divisive puff of air masked as a chuckle. “You might be the only one,” he replies.

Han leans forward and reaches his arm out in front of his wife, extending his fist to his only son. Ben knocks their knuckles together and nods.

As more guests arrive, more whispers fill the air. He feels dozens of eyes searing into the back of his head and when he glances at his watch, those eyes shift quickly. Ben’s hands remain in his lap and he keeps his head forward, his own eyes focused on the altar.

Maybe this is a mistake.

The string quartet he hadn’t noticed upon entering begins to play a soft, upbeat serenade. Like the guests, the musicians adhere to the evening’s dress code- black and white. 

The congregation turns to face the back of the church, so Ben shifts as well to find two of the people who more or less helped raise him. In the fine lines of their faces, Ben sees fatigue from countless sleepovers, regret from noise complaints, and worry from coming home too late after playing Man Hunt with the other neighborhood kids. 

Maratelle Hux glows brighter with each step, her arm looped through her husband’s. Brendol winks at a guest here and there as they approach the end of the aisle. He squeezes his wife’s hand and kisses her temple softly before gesturing for her to take a seat. 

The double doors open once more and Thanya Tico emerges, a vision in black sequins. She smiles as she descends down the aisle unescorted, her pure joy eminent to anyone in the vicinity. She takes her seat in the front row and winks across the aisle at the groom’s parents.

From the right side of the altar, the officiant emerges, followed by the groom and his four groomsmen. It pains Ben to see them standing in matching tuxedos with their identical cumberbunds and black bow ties. 

Not that Ben spent a significant amount of time imagining his or his childhood best friend’s future weddings, but he never thought he would be in the audience for this event.

The men stand tall at the altar, hands folded neatly in front of them. The best man nudges the groom and they share a smile. 

The string quartet pauses briefly. The cellist counts down 3… 2… 1…

The soft melody of Canon in D fills the chapel. The guests are given enough time to turn comfortably in their seats before the double doors at the back of the church open once again. Ben immediately recognizes Jannah, the bride’s college roommate, as she walks down the aisle in a floor-length black dress, a bouquet of white roses clenched tightly in her hands. 

As she passes his row on her way to the altar, Ben’s heart rate speeds up. He wonders if she’s seen him. He looks toward the back to watch his sister emerge, her dress the same stark black as Jannah’s, but a slightly different style. Something about the straps or the sash or the neckline. When Kaydel passes by Ben’s row, she winks at him and their parents, her smile resolute. 

What feels like a sharp punch to his lungs forces all of the oxygen from his body when he turns again toward the back of the chapel. Because the smile stretched across the face of the third bridesmaid has illuminated their surroundings. When she scrunches her nose, he falls even deeper in love with her than he’d been the first time.

When she was actually his. 

She floats down the aisle in her strapless black bridesmaid dress, her arms bent at the elbows to showcase her own bouquet of snow-white flowers held perfectly at her center. Her hair is a bit shorter now, the tips barely grazing her toned shoulders. It’s styled into perfectly elegant waves and her white earrings stand out in stark contrast against her dark hair.

“Wow, Rey looks good,” Han comments.

Ben hears him and doesn’t acknowledge his father’s comment about his ex, or his mother as she elbows Han so hard in the ribs, he coughs. 

“What?” he says with a shrug. “I’m just saying. She does.”

“Han,” Leia scolds, gesturing toward Ben’s presence. “Shut up.”

Paige, the maid of honor lingers in Ben’s peripherals but he can’t stop staring at the third bridesmaid as she glides past his row. Rey releases a silent laugh and he can taste the skin stretched over her collarbone as though he’d licked it that morning. 

He doesn’t have to ask to know she still wears the perfume he bought for her because he smells the familiar floral scent of the Chloe fragrance that she swore she didn’t like when she learned how expensive it was. But Ben knew her better than that. He saw her eyes light up when she tested it, and it smelled exactly how he would bottle her if he could.

Rey’s smile is unwavering as she approaches the altar, the skirt of her dress flowing around her long legs. Ben releases the breath he’d been holding since she’d appeared. He inhales deeply through his nose like his therapist instructed him to; but it gets sucker punched out of him when the second groomsmen in line winks at her. She giggles and looks down at her bouquet.

She’d made her only social media account private after deleting him. He has no idea who this groomsman is, only that he has the audacity to wink at seemingly the most inappropriate time. And surely her giggle meant that she was laughing in his face- that this tall, muscular, objectively handsome man would wink at her whilst she performs her very important bridesmaid duty of walking down the aisle and taking her stand next to Kaydel.

Ben hardly sees Paige walk by, he doesn’t hear the quartet cease playing Canon in D Major in favor of Here Comes the Bride. He doesn’t feel the rest of the congregation stand up around him. 

But he smells her perfume. And he tastes her skin.

It all turns to ash when he realizes she’s making eye contact with that groomsman and biting her lip. 

A little girl with dark hair and dazzling eyes toddles down the aisle to his left, a white basket in one hand and red rose petals in the other. The guests gush over how cute she is, how adorable her white dress is, how well she’s doing with her petals until she sees Paige and takes off running.

When Ben left town two years ago, Paige had been pregnant with her. He remembers Rey on the floor of their apartment, wrapping a baby shower gift and worrying about her Managerial Accounting exam the next day.

Leia nudges Ben and he scampers to his feet, towering above everyone around him. The double doors open for the last time and as Rey’s eyes shift from the groomsmen toward the back of the chapel, they connect with Ben’s. Her smile wavers for the first time but she swallows, and recovers, turning the corners of her lips back up into a grin.

He supposes he should turn his attention to the bride, escorted by her father, as she clutches his arm, her white dress glowing in the soft chapel light. Her bouquet shakes ever so slightly as she walks, but if she’s nervous, Ben can’t tell from the look on her face.

As soon as the bride passes his aisle, Ben’s gaze locks on Rey again. She’s quick at work as soon as Rose reaches the end of the aisle. She and Paige abandon their positions to gather Rose’s bouquet and fan out the train of her dress so it twists and sprawls out, spilling down the three small steps of the altar.

Once Paige and Rey have resumed their places dutifully next to Rose, the officiant greets the guests. The ceremony carries on rather quickly, which Ben is exceptionally grateful for, because while he’s never been a big drinker, he sure as hell could use several drinks right now. He splashed out on some overpriced Hendrick’s at the train station on his way here but it hardly touched his nervousness.

He doesn’t miss his second cue to stand, after Rose and Armie kiss once they’re pronounced husband and wife. The string quartet begins a new song. It’s something upbeat, something he may recognize but can’t focus too hard on because the best man is waiting at the center of the altar for Paige and she links arms with him as he guides her down the aisle which means-

The second groomsman, someone Ben doesn’t recognize and hadn’t paid much attention to until he started eye-fucking his ex, steps forward and places his fist on his hip as he waits for Rey. He whispers something in her ear as she slips her arm through his, and she smirks. 

Ben swears her eyes flick in his direction, but she’s smiling so widely, her nearly shut eyes could have been looking anywhere. 

“What a beautiful ceremony,” Leia observes as the audience piles out of the chapel.

“Where are you staying tonight, kid?” Han asks. “At the hotel?”

Ben blows a puff of air between his lips and runs a hand through his hair. He really hadn’t thought that far when he hopped on the train today. Hell, when he stood in his kitchen this morning, staring at the unanswered RSVP card tacked to his fridge, he wasn’t even sure he’d wind up here.

At this point, Ben supposes the best course of action would probably be for him to hop back on said train and go home. 

Feeling particularly masochistic, he sits here in this hurt.

“Um- can I stay in your room tonight?”


	2. Not Sure Which is Worse

Cocktail hour is a struggle for Ben.

He’s already awkward enough without feeling like the whole room is watching him fumble around, unsure of where to put his hands, or who to ask for a bite-sized appetizer. The drink in his hand is nearly gone seconds after receiving it because he’d nervously gulped most of it down immediately, and he fears if he orders another one, people will remember how recently he’d gotten the first drink and more whispers will ensue.

So, he resorts to following his father around, standing with him at a high-top wrapped in a white tablecloth while his mother floats around the room, catching up with the people she knows and introducing herself to the people she doesn’t. In the center of the table, a black vase proudly displays two snowy roses and a boa of slate napkins decorates the table’s outer rim.

When he saw the dress code was black and white, Ben didn't realize everything about this wedding would be black and white.

Ben doesn’t hate it. He actually quite likes it.

What Ben does hate, however, is that Rey's face has imprinted itself in his brain. 

Well, if Ben’s being honest, there are _several_ faces of Rey’s that are sketched in permanent ink in his mind and the fact that he’d been the first one to ever see some of those faces definitely doesn’t help the hostility he feels toward the mystery groomsman who winked at her and then made her laugh.

But the face at the forefront of his mind is the one she gave him when she spotted him from her perch on the altar. She clearly hadn’t expected to see him standing (read: towering over everyone) in the congregation but she’d found resolve within seconds. When her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly, everything inside of him sank- his heart, his lungs, his stomach. But then her lips turned back into their smile, and her cheeks rounded until her eyes squinted.

He’s not sure which is worse- the panic sewn across her features at the sight of him, or how quickly she’d been able to recover.

Did she think he wasn’t going to show up?

He supposes he has no idea what she thinks of him anymore. Hell, it’d been two years since he’d seen her, talked to her, kissed her, fucked her. And if he’d known that June night on the eve of her college graduation would have been the last time, he never would have stopped. 

Had he known it would be the catalyst, he never would have dropped to one knee. 

A frantic server carrying a tray once filled with mini crab cakes runs past Ben and shakes him into coherency. The drinks are strong and the stuffed mushrooms are delightful, but there’s a sense of looming dread he can’t quite shake as he wanders aimlessly through the lavish ballroom, hoping his suit blends in with the black and white décor.

Ben considers leaving the wedding altogether. It’s only 7:00pm; he can probably still catch the night train if he leaves now. He could deal with the bustling crowds and silent sleepers; it would most certainly be better than the sounds that surround him here.

Everyone is rattling on about the ceremony, and how lovely the venue is, but between bites of fig jam over brie bites and sips of Jack and Coke, he hears the whispers. 

_Why isn’t he a groomsman?_

_He cut everyone off when he took that job and left._

_They were so young! Well, she was._

_Is that why she said no?_

_Maybe she didn’t want to move with him._

Ben decides another cocktail is the best immediate solution, and takes the long way to the bar, avoiding as many people as possible. Maybe if he doesn't attract too much attention to himself, he’ll get left alone. God forbid someone finds enough liquid courage to ask those questions to his face.

He wouldn’t even know where to start if someone dared interrogate him about the last two years, or his reasoning, or _her._

Because Ben’s social skills are not his most accomplished trait, he overcompensates by being overly-prepared for every potential interaction. There’s an answer for everything, he knows, and the shelves of his mind are filled neatly with scripts, acceptable words, and guides that help him navigate gatherings and various exchanges.

It’s not that he’s controlling, he just _needs_ to avoid chaos. 

In spite of that, Ben failed to RSVP to the wedding, classically overthinking every potential outcome well past the requested response date. As such, the banquet attendants have to squeeze a place setting in for him, and because Ben is not a slight man, the table becomes a rather tight fit. Leia doesn’t seem to mind when half of his silverware is in her space but Ben wishes he could slip in at any table other than the one his parents have been assigned.

* * *

Growing up, he and Armie spent every event wishing away their seats at the kids’ table. They were the oldest, after all, so why should they be subjected to sitting with their younger cousins, and Ben’s little sister, and her stupid friends?

Leia would always roll her eyes and dismiss his arguments. And in true Mom fashion, she acquiesced to his request at the most inopportune holiday- the Thanksgiving when Ben met Rey.

Technically, he met her a few days before Thanksgiving, when he arrived home the Friday evening prior. She’d been in the kitchen with Kaydel popping popcorn in a pot with coconut oil for reasons Ben cannot remember. He thinks she mentioned that it was healthier or sweeter or creamier (?), but maybe that was just the way her skin appeared under the pendant lights as she dumped corn kernels into the pot.

Leia explained that Rey’s home life wasn’t ideal, and she’d been staying at their house for the past couple of weeks so she hopefully wouldn’t have to change high schools _again_ . Ben didn’t pay much attention when Leia informed him of this over the phone, but he quickly agreed that Rey was most certainly _not_ one of Kaydel’s stupid little friends. 

Ben _begged_ his mother to drop his place card at their table. 

That was when he was 20, and drinking wine at Thanksgiving dinner like it was no big deal, and Rey was 16, and happy to be anywhere that wasn’t serving coldcut turkey sandwiches with mayo for Thanksgiving dinner.

* * *

“Ben, it’s so good to see you.” One of Leia’s best friends appears next to him as he waits for his drink at the bar and he looks at her.

“It’s good to see you, Ms. Holdo. How have you been?”

She laughs. “Oh, please, Ben. You’re what- almost thirty now? I think it’s okay that you call me Amilyn.”

Ben smiles. “Twenty-eight,” he feels the need to say.

The woman he’s known his whole life throws her hand up in the air. “Oh, that’s perfect, because the age to start calling me Amilyn is definitely twenty-eight. So, Ben, now that we’re on a first-name basis, how are you?”

“Good,” he lies, watching the bartender’s heavy pour.

She dips her gaze, a loose curl falling into her eye. “Ben, I’ve known you since before you were born. You’re not _good._ ”

He lets out a puff of air. “Well, I have to be for tonight, don’t I?”

Amilyn smiles and presses her hand to his arm gently as the lights flicker and the DJ requests that everyone return to their tables for introductions and dinner. With his drink in his hand, he abandons the ticking time bomb that is Amilyn Holdo and squeezes into his chair between his parents. 

A spotlight circles the room before landing on the wide double doors toward the front of the banquet hall and the DJ immediately introduces the first bridesmaid and groomsman. Jannah and Poe explode into the room at the mention of their names, their hands in the air, hyping up the crowd, and encouraging them all to cheer and clap.

Leia gets her phone ready and starts recording an embarrassing amount of time before Kaydel and Finn are even announced. On their way to the bridal party table, they stop in the middle of the dancefloor to perform a quick hand jive in sync. 

Leia laughs too hard, like she’s in on their joke, like they didn’t plan to do that seconds before bursting through the doors, like she’d been the one to teach it to them, and then she keeps recording. 

When she places her elbow on the table to support her phone, it’s halfway into Ben’s place setting but he can’t focus on that, or anything else, really, as the DJ announces:

  
“Bridesmaid, Rey Niima and Groomsman, Cassian Andor!”

They scurry to the center of the dancefloor and Rey drops her bouquet to place a tiny hand in his. The groomsman, whose name Ben already chose to forget, spins her into his chest and then twirls her out. She wraps herself behind his arm like ribbon, so he can place his opposite arm behind her knees and flip her backwards over his elbow. 

Everyone gasps, laughs, and claps as she lands gracefully. Leia cackles behind him and he turns to shoot a dirty look at her, but Han is clapping and yells, “outstanding,” leaving Ben to wonder whose side his own parents are even on. 

* * *

  
  


Every time Ben returned home from college, whether it was for a holiday, a long weekend, or just to have his mother do some of his laundry, more of Rey’s possessions occupied the guest room. Not that she had much, but the room felt quainter, lived in, and warm when the dresser was filled with her soccer trophies, and her art awards (that Leia framed for her) were displayed on the walls. 

In the same vein, every time he came home, her face had lost a tiny bit more of that childhood softness, her cheek and collar bones growing more prominent by the day, it seemed. He was truly a goner when she realized her ass was a desirable feature and learned how to dress to show it off. 

That summer was the hardest, when he would walk in after a long day at his internship to find Rey lounging out by the pool. Fully relaxed and reading a trashy romance novel she’d slipped out of Leia’s bookshelf with some Cassanova-type guy on the cover with his nipples showing, and her own bikini top strings untied and coiled in piles on either side of her tanned body.

She looked so small spread out on the cushions, and Ben wished he could press his body to hers, just to _feel_ the size difference between them. He got a taste of it when they hugged, but he wanted more.  
  


He wanted to drown in her, and her in him.  
  


He’d never worked harder to write scripts in his mind than when he attempted to come up with things to say to Rey- questions, and talking points. She seemingly was a natural conversationalist, and would keep their discussion going long after he’d run out of topics to discuss.

* * *

The Maid of Honor and Best Man, Paige and Snap are announced (they also do a swing dance flip-type move, and Ben wonders where the hell everyone learned this), and then everyone stands for the introduction of the bride and groom. 

The music changes and the guests and bridal party start clapping along as the double doors open.

“Ladies and gentleman, it is my absolute pleasure to introduce to you for the very first time Mister and Missus Armitage and Rose Hux!”

The bride and groom burst through, their hands in the air and smiles plastered across their faces. Rose is beautiful in her wedding dress but Ben’s focus is on Rey- on her tiny hands clapping along, and her slight frame swaying along to the music, and how her button-nose scrunches in amusement. And Ben dies a little bit inside.

Weddings are heard-mentality, really. 

Ben stands when everyone else stands. He sits when everyone else sits. The bridal party steps onto a platform, and finds their seats at the head table. He’s initially agitated when Stupid Groomsman offers a hand to assist Rey onto the platform, but acutely pleased when Rey is seated at the other end of the head table between Kaydel and Paige. 

Rey’s chin is in her folded hands, watching dreamily as Armie takes his bride into his arms and they dance their first dance as husband and wife. Everyone’s attention is on the newlyweds, but Ben sees Stupid Groomsman slip a flask from his jacket pocket and take a swig before passing it to Poe and Finn, and then down the other side. Snap takes one, then Paige, and when it gets to Rey, she giggles before stealing a sip herself.

She winks at Stupid Groomsman and hands the flask to his sister.

Surely he can’t be her boyfriend. Kaydel would have told him, right?

* * *

All of the flirting, giggling, and stealing glances at one another whenever he was home came to a boil when they were both seniors- him in college, and her in high school.

Ben and Rey found themselves alone in the kitchen during Leia’s annual Christmas Eve Party. As oblivious as Ben could be, there was nothing ambiguous about the way she touched his arm when she asked about school, or the way her eyes fell to his lips when he smiled. 

They’d been interrupted by Han and his Uncle Lando, digging around the freezer for some tequila when Rey announced she needed a breather. Ben followed so closely behind her, he was certain he’d wind up tripping over her at some point in their journey onto the back deck, but as soon as they were hidden by the side of the house, and away from the windows of the double French doors, Rey stepped up onto her toes and kissed him. 

It wasn’t a peck either. It was a hand-in hair, nails-puncturing-fabric, leg-wrapped-around-hips type of kiss. 

His tongue learned more about her mouth in that kiss than it had about his own in the 22 years he’d been alive.

But it didn’t last long enough. 

“Please, Ben. Don’t tell anyone,” she’d whispered, her petite hand squeezing his finger as hard as she could. It hurt after a second, the cold catching up to her constricting grip, but he agreed to keep her secret because he would have let her do that to any part of his body she wanted to.

After the party ended, all that remained downstairs were empty bottles with tiny puddles of champagne flattening at the bottom; she slipped into his bed and they kissed until his already chapped lips were nearly bleeding.

He’d felt her up that night, too; his hands massaging her breasts beneath her pajama shirt and squeezing her ass while he tried so hard to multitask by kissing her or whispering into her ear. He wanted to really feel her, drench something- at least a finger, but she told him that no one’s fingers had been there, save for hers.

So he kissed her neck and sighs, moans, and pants fell from between her lips as he continued to touch her. He spent that Christmas Eve with her in his bed, his limbs wrapped wholly around her until she snuck back to her room at dawn.

On Christmas night, he did get a finger inside of her. Two, actually.

She spent that night in his bed, as well, sleeping half on top of him, her bare tits pressed against his own chest.

* * *

After his plate is dropped, Ben cuts his filet against the grain and the meat frays a bit but it tastes the same when he downs it with the glass of red wine in front of him and the last-minute Jack and Coke he’d acquired before introductions. 

The members of his table cheer as the bride and groom approach and immediately start hugging, shaking hands with, and thanking everyone at his table for coming. Ben’s pulse is so chaotic, he can feel it in his wrists as Armie approaches him. 

Upon leaving town, he’d cut _everyone_ out of his life. Anyone who knew what happened with Rey had to be purged.

Ben didn’t know how to write scripts to talk to those people anymore- the ones who knew the blackest mark on his heart.

“Ben,” Armie says as he stands up. “How are you, old friend?”

He wraps Ben in a hug and immediately, Ben eases into it, embracing him in return and clapping him on the back. Ben doesn’t answer the question. “Congratulations, you two!” he says instead. “Rose, you look gorgeous tonight.”

She reaches up to hug him as well and he swears over her shoulder, he sees Rey’s eyes flick away from their direction. “Thank you,” she says. “We’re so happy you were able to make it.”

Ben nods. “I wouldn’t have missed this.”

Even if he didn’t know he was coming until late this morning, he knows that to be true. 

“Can we _please_ catch up next time you’re in town?” Armie asks. “Coffee? Lunch? I know you’re busy. I’ll take anything.”

Ben nods, and is thankful when the pair move along to the next table.

Halfway through his shredded steak, Ben takes his jacket off because the Stupid Groomsman gets up from his seat at the head table and offers his hand to Rey. His jacket is already off when she takes it and steps off the platform with him and it’s not until that moment that Ben realizes most people have finished their dinners and have relocated to the dancefloor. 

He sighs as his traitorous parents head out as well. Kaydel jumps up and down as they approach her and she immediately starts dancing with them as though she’s an only child.

But Ben’s focus is on Rey, laughing and frolicking around with mostly the other members of the bridal party. Occasionally someone their age joins in their little circle but winds up leaving after a song or two.

He’s so enthralled with watching Rey that he doesn’t notice Kaydel approach and plop down in the empty seat next to him, previously occupied by his mother. Wordlessly, she nearly throws herself into Ben’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and squeezing him tighter than he’d ever been hugged in his life.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?” she asks with a smile when she pulls away.

Ben can’t help but laugh at his little sister. “I’ve uh… I’ve been busy.”

“Busy being an asshole,” she corrects, her raspy voice cutting through his ears like glass on a string. “I’ve missed you so much. We all have.”

Ben nods. He’s missed everyone, too. “I’m glad I came, Kay. You look beautiful tonight.”

She smiles. “Are you gonna come dance with all of us, or are you gonna be a sideline grump all night?”

Ben laughs and tips his cocktail. “You know me.”

“Well, I’ll find a way to get you on the dancefloor if it’s the last thing I do.”

Ben ignores her. “Hey, who’s the guy with Rey?” he asks, nodding to Stupid Groomsman who’s twirling her obnoxiously despite the fact that a rather upbeat Queen song is playing.

“Oh, Cassian?” Kaydel asks. “Oh… he… um…” She swallows. Her mouth opens and closes promptly. 

That’s all the answer he needs.

* * *

Ben came home every weekend his last semester of college, much to everyone’s surprise. Leia feared he was missing out on some of the most incredible experiences of his last few weeks of college, but Ben feared missing out on Rey’s small body pressed against him in his bed even more.

Their relationship remained a secret for longer than he thought it would, but not as long as she made him wait to fuck her. 

There had been a period of time when Ben wondered if blow jobs were all he’d get from her. Not that he was complaining, but god, how his cock wanted to feel what his fingers and tongue felt, when he’d hide under her duvet and cover her mouth with one hand so she didn’t wake anyone up with her moans and gasps.

Regardless of what they did- whether it was strictly kissing or more, she always needed to be held afterward, snuggled with more veracity than should be associated with cuddling, but Ben gave his arms and legs, and the entire front of his body to her in any position she required. 

* * *

Rose and Armie continue making their rounds around the ballroom. It’s then that Rey stops dancing and interrupts the newlyweds briefly. She then heads straight for the bar, presumably to get them some drinks. Ben stands, with the intent to follow and maybe help, because he could help her with drinks. Sure, that's an easy thing to talk about. Then she stops to garner Stupid Cassian’s attention and he ceases dancing to turn to her. He follows her off the dancefloor toward the bar. 

While they stand side-by-side, he places his hand on her lower back. Rey laughs at something he says while the bartender mixes three cocktails and pours a flute of champagne. She’s still smiling as they re-enter the chaos of the dancefloor, four drinks between the two of them, and she leads him in the direction of the bride and groom.

The ever-diligent friend, Rey, hands a drink to Rose and one to Armie before Cassian passes her the champagne flute from his own hand. 

Rey downs her bubbles in one gulp and holds a finger up to Cassian before walking away. He grabs her wrist and pulls her to him. She doesn’t let him kiss her mouth. When her head turns at the last moment, his lips collide with her cheek and a stupid hope flairs in Ben’s chest.

He rises and heads for the bar.

Ben beats her there and orders a Jack and Coke for himself, and a glass of champagne for her. From the corner of his eye, he can see Rey wrestling with the idea of approaching the bar now, but the champagne flute lands on the surface in front of him and she must know it’s for her because she steps up.

“Ben Solo.” The tone of her voice is deeper than the one that lives in his memory, and when she squints at him, he notices she’s gained a line and a couple of creases on the outer corners of her eyes.

Ben hands her the champagne flute and she smiles. He counts another line, this one curves beneath the bulge of her under-eye and god, what he would give to kiss those lines.

“Cheers,” he says, clinking their glasses together. “Rey Niima.”

She’s looking up at him with wide eyes and his cock doesn’t remember that he’s not allowed to think of her like _that_ anymore, because when she presses her full lips painted in red to her champagne flute, the front of his pants tighten a bit.

* * *

The first time they’d ever attempted to have sex was on the 4th of July. Ben had just graduated college and she was getting ready to start in the fall. The Solos rented a house on the Cape with the Huxes. 

She was wildly nervous, he could tell, but she was begging him, and there was only so much protesting a 22 year-old man could do with his naked girlfriend writhing underneath him, whispering his name, and begging him to please just _do it already_.

So, he lowered his hips, and got a couple inches inside of her. But her body refused to make more room for him and she’d been so frustrated, she cried, and that only made it worse. So he held her pouty little body all night, and traced her skin with his massive fingers, and told her he was falling in love with her.

The first time they successfully had sex was was a week later. After they finished, she almost didn’t let him get out of bed to dispose of the condom; she stayed so tightly pressed against his body, multiple sweat pools formed beneath them from the unrelenting skin-on-skin contact.

He didn’t care. He would have made oceans with that sweat if she’d have stayed long enough. Because the noises she’d made, and the painfully blissed-out look that crossed her features as he fully pressed into her for the first time were faces he would never forget. 

To this day, he comes the hardest anytime he thinks about his body taking over her tiny frame for the first time.

He told her that night he was _definitely_ in love with her.

* * *

Cassian calls Rey’s name from the dancefloor, breaking both of their concentrations, and she holds up a finger to make him wait. 

He knows Stupid Groomsman is fucking Rey. Or wants to be.

Ben’s not sure which one is worse. 

“Boyfriend?” Ben asks without looking in his direction.

Her smile falls as she clears her throat. “Uh… It’s casual.”

Ah. Turns out _that’s_ worse.

Ben wonders if he cuddles her as much as Rey needs.

Sometimes she liked it rough and sometimes she liked it soft, but she always required the same amount of cuddling after. Ben hopes Cassian makes oceans with her. 

Or maybe he doesn’t.

“How long?” Ben asks.

“That’s pretty personal,” Rey attempts to joke but Ben only half-laughs. She shrugs. “A couple of months, I guess, but Cass…" She sighs. "It’s nothing serious.”

_Cass_ calls out to her from the dance floor again, and waves her over obnoxiously before doing a silly dance move. “He wants more,” Ben says confidently. 

Her eyes are so round, the creases surrounding them are no longer visible.

“How are you, Ben?” she asks, ignoring his comment.

His ears take turns at his shoulders in a so-so fashion. He’s about to ask her how she is, what she’s doing, where she’s working, who she lives with. He wants to know why her hands are still so damn small and torment him as they wrap around her flute. His pride swells as he pictures those tiny fingers unable to wrap completely around the base of his cock.

He wants to know just how casual this thing with Stupid Cass is.

Before he can manage the more appropriate questions, Rey gets pulled away by his traitorous sister. As he watches Kaydel drag an apologetic Rey to the center of the dancefloor, the DJ explains the long-standing tradition of the bouquet toss. 

He’s left crestfallen. 

All of the women stand in a group as Rose turns around and shucks her bound flowers over her head. And if Ben needed any more reassurance that this night was out to kill him, Rey catches the bouquet.

With a fresh drink, Ben makes his way back to his assigned table and sits between his parents. He can only assume Cassian will be the one to catch the garter but Ben can hardly watch Armie slip it off Rose’s leg, his head and shoulders buried beneath the skirt of her gown, let alone watch him fling it over his head.

Leia half-heartedly attempts to get Ben to go up for the garter toss, but he won’t budge and she agrees that maybe it’s cruel to force him. Because if things had gone Ben’s way, he would be excluded from any activities for single people, and he, himself, would have already partaken in all of these traditions, because he would be married by now. 

To the woman slipping the bride’s veil on her head and posing for a photo with the bouquet. 

Just the sight of her in a veil with a tied bundle of white flowers is enough to shred him.

“She would have made such a lovely bride,” Leia muses and Ben rolls his eyes. “It’s a shame.”

“Are you two here just to torment me?” Ben snaps, and decides it’s time to go. 

He needs to get out of here. 

Half of a Jack and Coke is left on the table in his wake and he’s two steps from the exit when he hears it- the voice that may have changed a bit but he’ll never not recognize.

“Solo!” He stops and turns. The veil is off her head now, but the bouquet of flowers dangles from her left hand. Rey squints at him, her nose scrunched as she cocks her head to the side in a way that makes him want to die or grab her or both. “Wanna dance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did up the chapter count by 1- turns out, the reception needed 2 chapters for everything I've planned. Oops! 
> 
> My decision to make the mysterious groomsman Cassian is because I just used Tai as Rey's ex in my other WIP- Worth the Wait. Please don't cancel me for that LOL I promise I want him with Jyn ALWAYS.
> 
> Hopefully some questions were (kind of) answered in this chapter throughout Ben's thoughts and memories.
> 
> Some questions still up in the air... those will be answered next chapter! 
> 
> Happy New Year!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UHadMeAt_Reylo)


	3. Crestfallen on the Landing

Standing at 5’9” in heels, Rey is by no means a slight person. To Ben, however, her body had always felt so small next to his. 

And he _loved_ their size difference.

He got off on how tiny she felt in his arms when she would sit on his lap, and how much wider he appeared in photos. She fit so perfectly tucked into his side when they snuggled on the couch under a shared blanket, and he could never fathom how his long, thick cock even fit inside of her.

But she’s never felt as small as she does now on this dancefloor, the entirety of her tiny hand wrapped more or less around just his pointer finger, and his opposite hand spanning the full width of her lower back. 

Rey feels so light as he sways with her to “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. When she blinks up at him, she’s a little slower to open her eyelids and her tongue wets her lips a suspicious number of times.

He wants to lead her out of here and take her home to his apartment, the one that should be _theirs_ , and unwrap her, hold her all night long. He wants to keep her clinging to him forever.

From his peripherals, Ben sees Poe and Finn staring from where they’re dancing nearby and his mother won’t stop pointing them out to Kaydel and smiling. 

A stupid hope blossoms in his chest.

Then he sees Cassian standing alone at the bar. He’s staring specifically at Rey and the dejected look on his face excites the selfish part of Ben’s brain.

“Will he be angry you’re dancing with me?” he whispers and she shivers at his words. His breath is so hot on her ear, he feels it when it bounces back.

Rey looks up at him, her eyes search his and she finally says, “I don’t care. I asked you to dance.”

Ben wants to ask how much Cassian knows about their history but he had never been great at talking to her. So much so, he often wondered what she saw in him, why she wasted her time with him when she could have anyone- someone good looking, who actually knew how to string a sentence together in her presence.

He always rehearsed his planned language in his head before approaching her, even after they’d been together for years. Even after she texted him that she’d failed an exam and just wanted to vent. Memorizing points to make and conjuring replies to express were the norm for him, but a struggle nonetheless.

Hell, he can’t even remember his speech from when he proposed. He just remembers the look on her face, and the tears in her eyes, and how her gold tassel swayed with her shaking body, and how she looked anywhere but at him.

He wants to tell her he misses her and he forgives her.

But he doesn't think he knows how. 

The song ends and Rey smiles sadly at him as she releases his hand. Another slow song starts to play- “Faithfully” by Journey, and Ben can’t let go of his grip on her waist. So he tugs her and pulls her against him. This time, she wraps both of her arms around his neck and presses the entire front of her body flush against his while she twirls the hair at the nape of his neck.

They’re hardly moving on the dancefloor; he steps just one inch at a time at most but he’s holding her and she’s still so damn small, and he’s thankful she’s pressed so tightly against him because if he could actually see her mouth, he would no doubt kiss her. 

* * *

In the weeks leading up to Rey’s college graduation, Ben sat miserably, listening to his girlfriend and his sister plan their two-week trip to Europe. It had been a gift from Leia and Han, and despite Ben’s insistence that they gift the girls _anything_ else, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that the day after their graduation, they would be jetsetting.

Ben hated the fact that she was going without him. He begged them to let him come, he pleaded with Rey to shorten the trip, but his requests fell on deaf ears as the girls squealed over plans to picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower, and how much beer they could squeeze into one Munich day. The last thing Kaydel wanted was to third wheel with her best friend and older brother on her dream trip.

Two weeks without Rey would surely kill him. Potentially worse, two weeks of Rey, the most beautiful woman in the world, gallivanting around Europe alongside men with accents more similar to hers than his was, made him nervous.

Of course he trusted her. They’d been together for four years, but those four years were the entire duration of Rey’s college career. She’d spent the time most people date and experiment locked in a serious relationship with a man four years older. 

What if this trip to Europe is where she realizes she doesn’t want Ben to be her first and only everything?

What if some well-dressed Parisian man buys her a glass of champagne and he doesn’t have to concoct scripts in his head to talk to her and she just _stays_?

* * *

When Rey sighs, he feels her physically relax against him; her stiff muscles melt under his touch. She’s so soft and warm and he wants to say something, but his brain is incapable of typing something up. He didn’t assume he’d be dancing with her tonight, so he hadn’t prepared a script for this.

So he just holds her.

And he inhales her hair, and her Chloe perfume tickles his nose, and he wonders if she still wears it every day. 

He overthinks the possibility that she wore it just for him tonight.

The DJ mentions something about getting the party going again as the song ends and a more upbeat song starts playing. It’s announced that this song has been requested by Rose and is dedicated to her beautiful bridesmaids. Ben recognizes the tune as something by Taylor Swift and just as he works up the nerve to ask her to go talk elsewhere, Jannah is at her side, tugging her toward the other women so they can all dance together.

And just like that, Rey slips away from him, maintaining the most poisonous eye contact he’d ever been a part of. She mouths, ‘sorry’ to him. 

Their locked gaze breaks as she’s pulled into a circle with the bride and the other bridesmaids. Kaydel says something into Rey’s ear and she nods. Ben knows it’s about him. The girls are huddled together, singing, and dancing, and laughing, but Rey is watching him carefully over her shoulder. 

When Ben sits down at the table next to his father, Han’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. 

“Don’t,” Ben warns. 

  
Han throws his hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying a word.”

\--

A Jordan almond nearly cracks Ben’s tooth when he bites into it. At least, it feels like it does as he stirs his watered-down Jack and Coke. Rey disappeared from the dancefloor immediately after that Taylor Swift song and hasn’t been back since. 

It’s 11:30pm. Only a half hour until midnight.

When he looks around, he can’t find Cassian either and the thought of anyone else’s mouth on hers at 12:00am is enough cause for him to abandon this ballroom, and give up on this party altogether. There will be others.

Poe and Finn are getting married in the spring and he knows Rey’s in that one as well.

Although, at this rate, he’s probably going to skip it. Maybe he won’t RSVP to that one either and just show up last minute again. Then he can be the talk of _that_ wedding, too.

_Did you see them dancing together?_

_Do you think he’ll ever forgive her for what she did?_

_Do you think she’ll ever forgive him?_

_Leia took it so hard. She loves them both so much._

_But Ben is her son._

_But he’s the one who left them all._

* * *

The morning of Rey’s college graduation, she stepped out of her bedroom, drowning in her black gown. Several honor cords hung around her neck, and her gold tassel whipped against her cheek with every step. She asked Ben how she looked and he wanted to cry because he was so proud of her, and so scared for her, for him, for them.

He’d had her in a bubble for so long- first his parents’ house, where she’d wait for him to come home every weekend. And when he was away at school he knew exactly what the guest room (Rey’s room) looked like, and that after she’d lock herself in it for the night, she’d change into one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

Then she went to his alma mater in the city where he’d accepted a job and stayed post-graduation. He knew her class schedule and that the Starbucks on the west side of campus was her favorite place to kill time. He was able to take her out, and take her home, and he got to see his shirts on her in-person, rather than over FaceTime.

But suddenly, with the world at her feet, Rey could go anywhere and do anything. She’d have to find a new favorite Starbucks, and she could decide so much easier now that he wasn’t right for her. 

Especially since he’d accepted a job away from all of it. They’d done the long-distance thing before, but she was in a bubble then.

He hated that it was about to pop.

* * *

With his parents’ spare room key tucked in his jacket pocket, Ben walks swiftly out of the ballroom. He wants to see her one last time, but he knows if he looks for her and sees her with Cassian, he’ll absolutely lose it, so he keeps on.

Before heading to the room, he swings a right and steps out one of the side doors of the hotel for some fresh air. The cold air stings his nose as he inhales and he smells winter, and fresh flowers… and Chloe perfume. 

Sitting on the curb, still unaware of his presence, Rey is alone, her knees bent under the tulle of her dress. She takes a pull from the half-empty bottle of champagne in her hand and picks at a spot on her dress.

* * *

He told her she looked beautiful, even with the ugly graduation cap matting her hair. Because that matting symbolized how hard she worked, how many all-nighters she’d pulled, and how many odd jobs she did to minimize her student loan debt as much as possible.

“Rey,” he’d said, getting up off the couch and digging into his jacket pocket.

And somewhere between getting down on one knee, opening the ring box, and seeing the tide rise in her eyes, he blacked out because the only thing he can remember from that moment is her placing her hands over his on the black velvet and closing the lid as tears spilled over her bottom lashes.

* * *

Wordlessly, Ben approaches and sits next to her, copying her leg position. 

Neither of them talk for thirty seconds.

Neither of them talk for a full minute.

Ben is rehearsing a million different possibilities in his head and Rey takes another swig straight from the bottle before handing it to him.

“How’d you get this outta there?” he decides to ask, taking his own sip. 

The champagne is a bit sweeter than he knows she prefers, but when he hands it to her, she tips it back. Beggers can’t be choosers and all that.

“Easy,” Rey says, passing it. “I told them it was for the bride and groom.” Ben laughs and nods approvingly. “Besides, they have so many cases for the midnight toast, no one’s gonna notice if one bottle is missing.” 

“Where’s Chris?” Ben asks.

“It’s Cass,” she corrects.

He knows. She knows he knows. 

“He’s… I don’t even know where he is. I left after that last song with the girls,” she admits before looking at him. And she takes her time looking at him, studying his eyes, his nose, his lips. He swears she sighs internally when she focuses on his lips. Ben wets them subconsciously. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. How are you, Ben?”

Lifting the bottle to his mouth, he sighs, and more champagne slips between his lips. The bubbles fill his mouth, tickle his tongue. Her question flosses his teeth.

“I’m alright,” he says. 

“Still with First Order?” she asks and he knows she means it as an insult because she yanks the champagne bottle a bit too hard from his grip, even after he offered it.

“Yep,” he replies. 

Rey smiles and then clearly thinks better of bringing up the memory. She takes a long pull from the champagne bottle, then she brings it up anyway. 

“Do you remember the night you found out you got that job?” she asks, handing him the bottle. “I made you a huge dinner and we didn’t eat any of it.”

Ben laughs, then groans. His cock twitches at the thought. 

Oh, he remembers. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t often recall that night when he’s in his shower with one forearm pressed to the wall and his opposite hand wrapped around his dick. 

“I thought that was the first night of our life together,” he admits and takes another sip of champagne. "I thought that was it. I got that job and you were days away from graduating. I thought we were about to get engaged. It was all so perfect in my head.”

The hurricane in her eyes swirls with reckless fury as she contemplates what to say. He can tell she wants to hurt him and is conflicted by that. Truthfully, he would give anything for her to hurt him right now as long as it answers the millions of questions he has for her.

“I didn’t want to break up, you know,” she decides.

Ben laughs divisively. “Could have fooled me.”

“I didn’t want the breakup, Ben, but I also didn’t want the proposal right then, either. I was only twenty-two.”

“I thought I’d be making your life easier. I thought it would make your transition out of college seamless if we were engaged.”

Her eyes bulge like she can’t believe what he’d just said. She puts her incredulous features away momentarily when she says, “I thought we were moving back here together.”

“Rey, you know I thought the job _was_ here. I didn’t know I would have to move three hours away until the formal offer came through!”

She rolls her eyes at that and he knows how ridiculous it sounds, but it is the truth. The job he interviewed for was back home and ultimately got filled internally the day before they’d called him. But there was another opening- a better opening, they'd said, and it was only a three hour train ride away. 

“Ben, you were my first everything. My first kiss, my first boyfriend, you took my virginity. And you were my best friend’s brother. It was all tied up in this neat little package with a bow. I didn’t know anything else. I loved you, Ben, and I didn’t want to know anything else. But you blindsighted me. You never talked to me about us or getting engaged!”

He winces at that. It was a script he didn’t know how to write, let alone bring up to her.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You didn’t even ask me if I was ready.”

“Rey, we’d been dating for four years at that point. That’s what you do when you’ve been dating for a long time, you get engaged.”

Rey releases an incredulous laugh. “How romantic,” she deadpans.

He’s proving her point and he hates that. But Ben does like order, he likes knowing there’s a way things are supposed to go and following that structure.

“I’m sorry I wanted to be with you forever, Rey,” he says sarcastically. “I loved you so much, I only wanted to make you happy.”

“Yeah, and you still didn’t trust me to go to Europe that summer without you.” 

Silence befalls them. 

And they can continue to speak in half-sentences non-linearly all night if that’s what it comes down to because their pain follows no pattern.

But Ben hates that. So he pivots.

“You never ask about me,” he accuses instead of addressing the points she made. “When I ask Kaydel how you’re doing I always ask her if you ever ask about me and she always says no.”

“You left, Ben!”

“Yeah. And you didn’t tell me to stay. You let me go.”

“That’s not fair. I wasn’t going to make you stay.”

“I would have, Rey. I would have stayed. For you. If only you'd asked.”

“And then you would have resented me for it.” She picks at the label on the champagne bottle. It’s quiet again, save for the beat thumping against the banquet hall walls, and the occasional car that drives by. “So, how _are_ things at First Order?”

He wonders if she knows they’re not good. That he never should have taken the “better” job, and that he should have listened to her when she reasoned that it sounded like a lot more work, further away, for the same amount of money.

But even if he agreed with that logic at the time, he wanted to get as far away from her, and his family, and their friends as possible. 

“Fine,” he lies. “I don’t think it was wrong of me to want to work for such a prestigious company.”

A sigh escapes her mouth as she focuses her attention on the concrete between his legs.

“And you always get what you want,” she says. “Don't you? And God help the people around if you don’t get what you want. If things aren’t on Ben Solo’s terms, he’s not interested. Everything is so black and white with you, Ben. You couldn’t fathom that I was twenty-two and didn’t want the rest of my life planned out for me at that moment in time. In your head, we’ve been dating for four years, so… time to get engaged!”

“It could have been a long engagement.”

Rey lets out a spiteful laugh and he knows he missed her point. But he’s the one who’s hurt here. He’s the one who got denied. He’s the one who gets to monopolize this pain, damn it.

Although, there’s a red corrective pen running rampant through every script he’s ever written telling him he’s wrong.

“I thought it was all perfect,” Ben admits.

“That’s just it,” she says. “ _You_ thought it was perfect. _You_ were ready. _You_ were twenty-six. _You_ thought it would be a good idea to propose to me on my college graduation day. Ben, most people didn’t think I would even finish _high school_. I was so proud of myself in my cap and gown, about to go collect my diploma. It was a day for me, and no one else because I worked so hard and then… you just dropped to one knee and made it about you like you always do.”

Ben wonders how long she’d rehearsed that speech over the last two years. He knew they were fucking perfect for one another. If only he’d have thought to have a counter-argument prepared. 

Though, he supposes he could have never been prepared for her to tell him what an oblivious, selfish prick he’d been.

“Rey, I-” He’s interrupted by her.

“It always has to be about Ben Solo, and if it’s not, you make it about you. Today, even. This is Rose and Armie’s wedding day, and all anyone can talk about is the fact that you showed up.”

“That’s… that’s not my fault.” He wasn’t prepared for this discourse and he’s starting to panic. 

“Maybe. But it’s what happened. It’s what always happens with you. I loved you so much, Ben. So much more than I ever thought I could love anyone. But I wanted _one_ day that was about me. Just me. And you couldn’t let me have it.” She stares into the champagne bottle and says, “I was completely blindsided by your proposal, then I had to go sit through my college graduation ceremony, unable to focus because all I can think about is you on one knee. And then from the stage, I look out and see _your_ dad, and _your_ mom, and next to her… an empty seat.”

Ben swallows guiltily. 

“Then, I come back from Europe and you’re gone and refusing to return anyone’s calls. I was a mess, Ben. You just left me. I didn’t even have a chance to explain myself to you, or... or work things out with you. You cut me out, and that's... your prerogative, I suppose.

“But Ben, what you need to understand, and I don’t think you ever will is that… for everything you think you worked hard for in your life, I had to work ten times harder. For everything you achieved, I had to put in that much more effort. 

“I never wanted to lose you, but I couldn’t give up on myself either. I needed to see what I could do.”

“But my parents…”

“Your parents did _so_ much for me, Ben. So much that I’ll never be able to repay them. They basically adopted me as a shitty teenager, they…” she’s tearing up now and she hugs her knees closer to her chest. “They saved my life, honestly. And I am so thankful for that every day. But I didn’t need my life decided for me, set in stone, and locked away the day I graduated from college.”

He nods in understanding and he _does_ get it. But he still wants to scream that she'd rejected him, and he wins the pain game because of that.

“Ben, when you left without even saying goodbye… that _destroyed_ me. To have to hear from your parents that you took off while Kay and I were in Europe. You knew the most efficient way to hurt me, and you did it. You left. You left me all alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, and it sounds insincere and panicked, but he means it.

“I’m sorry, too,” she says honestly, and offers him the bottle of champagne.

There’s a sip or two left, so he takes her offering and then hands it back to her so she can kill the bottle.

There are few things on earth anyone could love more than Rey loves champagne. She’d never had it before her 21st birthday. In one of his happiest memories with her, Ben bought her a bottle of Dom Pérignon and they shared it on the balcony of his condo.

They had the giggliest, silliest night together that night, passing bubbles between kisses, and tasting it on each other's lips even after he’d gone down on her twice, and he swore he’d never love anything more than he loves Rey.

But that was a long time ago.

“Looks like you’ve got someone else now.”

  
Rey rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. He’ll get frustrated and leave in a couple of months like they always do. I’m too emotionally unavailable, it seems.” She laughs divisively. “What guy says that? I thought you lot wanted emotionally unavailable.”

Ben smirks at her attempt to hide her pain behind her joke. Because of him, she’s emotionally unavailable. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t know the feeling.

“What about you?” she asks. “Are you currently with someone who’s too hopeful for the impending doom you’ll no doubt unleash upon them when you can’t commit because we’ll never get over each other?”

He’s so taken aback by her question, he thinks for a second maybe he said it. It sounds vaguely like one of the rehearsed lines he’d store away in the filing cabinets of his mind for later use. Furthermore, it’s the truest and most honest interpretation of the women he attempted to use to get over Rey the past two years.

There hadn’t been a lot of them, and he eventually gave up, because they all reminded him of her in the worst ways, because none of them _were_ her.

They'd ruined one another.

In spite of all of that, he can’t help the smile that creeps into his features at her question and she lets out a giggle. It’s not harsh nor sardonic. It’s rich and true, and he can’t help but laugh as well. Maybe it’s the champagne, or maybe the cold has them light-headed, but he’s so happy to be laughing with her, he could cry. 

From inside the banquet hall, the music comes to an abrupt stop and albeit muffled, they make out the DJ mentioning something about the countdown to the New Year. The timing actually works out in Ben’s favor, because he has no idea what he is going to say to her anymore anyway.

“Ten… nine… eight…” blurred shouting floats from inside. Ben glances at his watch to confirm that they’re seconds away. 

“Seven… six… five…” Rey stands up and brushes the gravel from her hands. He follows her lead and wonders if Cassian is running around the ballroom, looking frantically for her, desperate to ring in the new year with her. Poor guy’s probably hopeful that will mean something.

“Four… three… two…” Ben looks down at her. Some of her professionally curled hair has slipped from it’s bobby pin prison and frames her face. Moonlight reflects off the smooth skin of her cheeks and it’s not his fault how beautiful she looks tonight, or how small she appears standing in front of him. He didn’t make her so tiny, with her delicate shoulders and thin torso.

“One…”

So Ben throws caution to the wind and wraps a hand around her lower back to pull her against him. Rey gasps but recovers as soon as his mouth is on hers, kissing her with as much passion, magic, and thoughtfulness he can muster. He swears she tries to pull away from him but when he feels her arms around his neck, it takes everything in him to not pick her up off the ground. 

His hand cups the side of her face as faint choruses of ‘Happy New Year’ ring out from inside. But Rey’s shouting a completely different kind of symphony into his mouth, one where her tongue is the conductor and her lips are the strings section.

They linger a moment too long after the passion of their kiss fizzles and Ben presses his forehead to hers. Then Rey kisses him again- a short one this time, and he can’t take it. He wants to ask her to stay with him, or come home with him, or acquire citizenship wherever the hell she wants it in the world and move there with him because all he knows is that he needs her in every sense of the word.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pressing her fingertips to her bottom lip. “I... I don't know if I can do this.” 

Her black skirt sways between her legs as she turns on her heel and heads swiftly for the door, throwing it open and running down the hallway back toward the ballroom.

When she took that first sip of Dom Pérignon the night of her 21st birthday and looked at him, eyes wide, smile so big, he could count all of her teeth, he swore there would be nothing on earth he could love more than Rey. 

After that kiss, he knows that to still be the case.

By the time he reaches his parents at their table, the main lights have come on, and he’s not even sure how long he stayed outside after she left but the servers are cleaning off the tables, and the cleaning crew has piled in.

Ben figures he must have missed their send-off, because Rose and Armie are nowhere to be found. In the corner, Rey, Kaydel, and Jannah are stacking presents on a cart, working together to play Tetris with wrapped dinner sets and towels while the groomsmen help box up the extra alcohol. 

“Where’s the after-party?” Poe asks and Ben’s jaw clenches as Cassian approaches Rey. They’re all talking about bars in the area, and potentially going back to Finn and Poe’s room for nightcaps. Cassian’s in her ear, no doubt asking her where she was at midnight.

But Rey is pulling her hand and her face away from him and he looks hurt. She’s looking at the ground.

She rubs her temple and he swears she says the word ‘headache.’ Cassian takes her hand again and begs her to come out with all of them, but she shakes her head and tells him to have fun.

Once Jannah, Poe, and Finn take off with the presents, Kaydel and Rey approach Han and Leia. 

From across the room, Cassian’s eyes are on Rey. So are Ben's.

Rey says goodnight to Han and Leia, giving them hugs and expressing how good it had been to see them. Leia tells her they need to do lunch soon, it’s been too long. Rey agrees.

Kaydel falls into conversation with Leia and as Rey approaches Ben, he stands up straighter, makes himself taller.

“Rey,” he breathes, looking down at her. Her tiny face turns into a smile. He reaches for her and he’s surprised when she steps into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and standing up on her toes in emphasis. As she pulls away, her hands slide down his shoulders and over his chest.

Rey takes a deep breath and nods as though she's made her mind up. She whispers his name as she slips something into his breast pocket. 

“Goodnight, everyone!” she calls and saunters toward the exit, breaking free of Cassian’s final plea to get her to go out with them.

He’s left crestfallen when she tells him for the hundredth time, no, and heads in the direction of the elevators.

As she disappears, Ben slips a card wrapped in a napkin from his jacket pocket. He quickly recognizes the hotel room key and scribbled on the napkin in Rey’s undeniable handwriting is, _Room 1457_.

When Ben looks up, he realizes Han had been watching the entire exchange over his wife and daughter's conversation. 

His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline and before Ben can warn his own father, Han says, “I’m not saying a word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for saying that I was hopeful to have this completed by New Year's because it's January 13th and we still have one more chapter to go LOLOL.
> 
> Having said that, I hope Rey's side of the story made things a bit clearer! Usually, dialogue is the thing I love to write the most, but I really really struggled with their conversation. I hope it turned out somewhat cohesive. I love them both, and I hate the hurt they've inflicted on each other :(
> 
> But Ben's got a room key now....................
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UHadMeAt_Reylo)


	4. You'll Find the Real Thing Instead

Ben paces outside of Rey’s room.

The key-card she’d handed to him lingers between his thumb and forefinger as he taps the palm of his opposite hand with the plastic corner.

He desperately wants to swipe it, enter her room, sweep her off her feet and make love to her like he never thought he’d get the chance to again, but he can’t help his overthinking as he walks back and forth, up and down the hallway.

Questions run through Ben’s mind like an itemized bill, a new concept popping up every time he thinks he’s got something else figured out. There’s still so much he wants to ask her, but if this is their last night together, then he’s not going to waste time talking.

Though, he does have to admit- he has no idea why she asked him here tonight. Was it for one last night together? As in closure? Or was it to continue talking? Because he’s pretty sure he’d said all he can say, all he needed and wanted to say.

He wanted to hear from her, though, and the conflict between his mind demanding answers and his cock demanding release was too much for him.

Ben contemplates leaving altogether. 

He considers returning to his parents’ room, sleeping on the couch or whatever makeshift floor-bed Leia will no doubt concoct for him, and going home tomorrow where he can leave this evening and everyone behind.

Again.

He realizes rather quickly that his cock controls the rest of his body because the tiny LED light on her keypad flashes green and when he turns the handle, the door opens. Rey’s back is to the door when he steps inside, but she quickly turns around and flashes a toothless smile and fuck, he’s 22 again and he’s so damn nervous, and he wants to kiss her but they could be interrupted or she could change her mind, and his eyes drop to the bodice of her dress. He wonders if the zipper is in the back, or stitched along the rounded edges of her ribs.

“Hi,” she says quietly. She appears somewhat surprised to see him.

“Hi,” he replies, then adds, “key works.”

He mentally slaps himself.

Rey giggles at his awkwardness as she takes a step toward him. “Um, I’m really glad the key works because I have more to say.”

He’s not sure what he wants to hear from her at this point but he knows he wants more.

Rey takes a deep breath. She tugs on the bracelet decorating her wrist and bites her lip as she stares up at him. “Ben, some of the most vivid memories I have are the ones before we ever got together. You would come home from school and if you acknowledged me in any capacity… I would die. I died every single time.”

Well,  _ this  _ is news to him.

“I didn’t go on a single date after I met you that first Thanksgiving at your parents’ house. At least, not until I kissed you two Christmas Eves later.”

This is also news to him. When she’d mentioned, barely over an hour ago that he was her first kiss, it must not have registered then, but it sure as hell has now.

“The truth is, Ben, I overthought every discussion I’ve ever had with you before I’d ever even had it. In the beginning, it was really bad. But it’s a habit that never went away. Even after we’d been together for years and were practically living together at your condo. I used to run over conversations in my head before we’d even have them, even if it was something stupid, like what are we having for dinner that night.

“I was so intimidated by you- you were so cool, and older, and experienced, and I was so afraid that you were going to leave me for being too needy, or too young, or find someone else who was on the same page as you because we were  _ never  _ on the same page.”

Ben laughs at this.

“All I knew was that I loved you. Year after year, I told myself that I was more mature, more what you needed. I was another year older, another year wiser so they say, but then your birthday was right after mine and I would get thrown back into this panic of… I’m not good enough for him, and it…”

Rey looks down at the floor. Her ankle wavers and Ben realizes she still must have her shoes on. Her dress is too long to know for sure.

“I’ve never been more scared in my life than when you were down on one knee. Because I wasn’t ready, and I felt too young, and I wish you would have talked to me first, and it was my  _ graduation  _ day. But above all of that… I was so terrified that if something were to happen to us with that promise on my finger, I would have never survived it.”

“Rey, Rey,” Ben says, approaching her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

She shrugs and wipes away the single tear that’s fallen from her left eye. “Because I was scared that you didn’t know that I’m not enough. Like if I spoke it, you would realize it. I always felt like I was in the shadow of our relationship, and I was okay with that, until I wasn’t, I suppose. And that’s not an excuse, but it is the truth. I should have communicated better, I should have been better. I’m sorry.”

“Rey, we…” Ben scratches the back of his neck. “We’re  _ both  _ terrible communicators. And I relate to the pre-meditating conversations thing more than you know.”

She smiles like she does know.

“Why did you run away? Downstairs?”

“Because I needed to give you time to think about my miles of accusations before I spilled my guts,” she says. “I couldn’t do it there. Not right after that kiss.”

He has a million things he could say here, but nothing that he wants to say. 

“I think… I think we’re not good for one another," Ben finally says.

“I know,” she agrees, stepping toward him and reaching for his jacket. “We’re too similar.”

“And too different” he adds as he helps her shimmy the jacket off his shoulders before tossing it onto the arm chair.

“We’re both stubborn,” she says as Ben reaches for her wrist and pulls her closer to him.

“And impatient.” Her fingers work the knot of his time, loosening it as quickly as possible until she can slip it from around his neck.

“We can’t communicate.” Now she's focused on the buttons of his shirt, slipping them through their holes one by one.

“And we know exactly how to hurt one another. What buttons to push,” he says.

“But we also know exactly how to undo one another,” Rey says quietly, her eyes locked fiercely on his as she slides her hands beneath his shirt, feeling his smooth skin, and the hard muscles that reside underneath.

“Do you still think about me?” Ben asks, as she slides his shirt off. He lets it fall to the floor. She maintains her grip on his shoulders.

Her eyes drop to his lips before snapping back up. “Yes,” she admits.

“When?” he asks.

Rey bites her lip and contemplates her words. 

“When I have to go grocery shopping alone,” she starts, her hands gliding over his chest. “Or when I could really use a good laugh.” Her hands continue south toward his stomach, her fingertips dipping into the grooves between his abdominal muscles. As she collides with the waistband of his pants, she looks up at him. “When I’m alone. And I’ve got my hand between my legs. I pretend it’s yours.”

“Yeah?” he asks and even he’s surprised by how low his voice sounds. But  _ fuck _ she still masturbates to thoughts of him. He wants to ask what specifically, but he somehow refrains.

“Mhmm,” she nods. “Ben, I miss you.”

Her fingers haven’t moved since settling on his belt and he looks up at her, ever the logical one. He hates that about himself, he realizes as he takes a step back.

“Won’t Cassian be coming back eventually?”

“Um. No. He thinks I’m sharing a room with Kay tonight.”

Interesting.

Ben wants to overthink this. He wants to consider if she premeditated tonight. If she hoped he’d show up. If she requested two room keys so she could give him one. 

Ben wants to ask what this night is- what her intentions are as she eye fucks him from a foot away.

Unfortunately, all the blood in his brain is rushing south and the only thing he can think about is her cleavage poking out from under her dress and whether the zipper is in the back or on the side because he needs to get her naked as soon as possible. 

Turns out, he doesn’t need to worry about the zipper because Rey bends her arm behind her back and tugs it for him. Her dress falls to the floor, the fabric bunching at her feet and she stands in a pool of her own dress, her silver heels defining the muscles of her calves. 

His eyes scale her body like she’s still his- her black panties and she’s not wearing a bra and he’s not so dumb to think she doesn’t want him in this moment but he can’t help but wonder if this is a trap. This has to be some kind of cruel joke.

The rest of their breakup had been. 

“Ben-” His name has barely left her lips before he’s got her pinned to the wall. 

She moans into his mouth and it’s their first kiss all over again because she doesn’t know what to do with her hands or her teeth but this time she’s naked so Ben doesn’t know what to do with his own hands or his teeth; so he pours his tongue into her mouth and she makes more noises and if it were anyone but her, he would assume she’s faking it. 

“I need you,” she tells him as his mouth descends on her neck. “Fuck, Ben. I need you so bad.”

Testing her claims, he drops a hand between them and nudges her thighs apart. She’s soaked through her panties and the surge that fills Ben’s cock drives his hips forward into her so hard, it must bruise her because it sure as hell hurt him.

But he knows she likes the pain.

So he thrusts against her again and the pressure he’s applying to her hips is unfair considering he’s got her pinned against the wall. So he distracts her with his fingers because he can’t handle the thought of not having his skin pressed against hers. 

His fingers run a marathon with her panties pushed to the side, gliding through her folds.

“Ben, I need-” she pants, her head falling to the side. “More.” 

Her hair is coming undone against the wall, he realizes, when he pulls back to look at her, and he’s never seen her so desperate before. He can only imagine what he looks like, sliding his thigh between her legs, caught somewhere between shock and awe as she lowers her body and grips his bicep with one hand as she grinds against him.

He’s taken back to the days in his bed in his parents house, back before she let him fuck her, when she would get off on his thigh before he’d eat her out. Then she’d go down on him and she’d ride his forearm with his opposite hand over her mouth. He was only 22 in those days, but he nearly had a hard time keeping up with her and her 18 year-old libido.

He leans down to kiss her, but she nearly screams his name and he thinks better of it. Let whoever’s in the hallway hear her, remember that she’s his.

So he attaches his lips to her neck and sucks her there until he’s certain he’s left a mark. He even bites her for good measure as she continues to thrust her pelvis back and forth against the hard muscles of his thigh. She shifts slightly to the right and lets out the loudest moan he’s quite possibly ever heard her make.

“Fuck, Ben, oh my god,” she breathes, digging her nails into his bicep.

Her acrylics hurt, but he doesn’t stop her as her forehead falls against his chest and a bit more wetness pools through the fabric of his pants. She pants his name over and over as her hips roll against his thigh and squeaks when he sinks his teeth into her neck before sucking on the flesh, making sure to mark her a second time. 

Her body nearly gives out against him, as he guides her to the bed and sits her down at the foot. Rey’s hands are on his belt buckle not even a second later, and he stands tall, watching her tiny hands work, pulling his pants and his boxer-briefs down with them. She’s scooting to the edge of the bed and he’s standing between her legs as she ducks down and takes his cock into her mouth.

Her muffled moans drive him crazy as his length is enveloped in her hot, wet mouth. Her tongue is so soft and his dick is so sensitive to her touch as she circles the head and licks the entire underside.

If he’d have known this is how tonight would have ended up, he would have jerked off before the reception because he’s already too close and he wants this to last forever.

But then Rey’s falling onto her knees between his legs and the foot of the bed so she can get a better angle, and then she’s looking up at him, her eyes wide, tears springing at the corners as she gags on him, but still, she doesn't stop. She’s relentless, bobbing back and forth on him, sucking the tip whenever her throat needs reprieve.

“Rey, I’m gonna-” he manages, but that just causes her to dig her nails into his ass cheeks harder and when she hums, he loses it. But she moans as he paints her tongue and the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat.

Even with his hands tangled in her hair, he can’t remember where he is as his orgasm tears through him. Absolutely no woman on the face of this earth will ever be able to undo him like she can. He’s certain of that. 

When he looks down at her, she’s cleaning up her lips with her delicate fingertips, and her tongue pokes out to collect anything along the tip of his cock that she may have missed and she smiles when their eyes lock.

It dawns on him that he’s in here tonight because maybe no one on the face of this earth will ever be able to undo her like he can.

The thought makes his cock twitch.

Ben tucks his hands beneath her arms and lifts her so he can kiss her, thank her, taste himself on her tongue because if he’s never in her mouth again, he’ll never come that hard again.

Keeping her mouth on his, she loses about three inches as she steps out of her heels, and he scoops her, one-handed and climbs onto the bed with her, placing her on her back so his hand can slide down the center of her body and his fingertips can dip beneath her pantyline. 

She’s so smooth, she definitely shaved.

And if Ben had any blood that wasn’t propelling his second erection of the night, he would definitely overthink that. But all his dick allows him to think about is tasting her, so he yanks at the fabric.

“Ben.” The tone of her voice breaks his heart as he pulls her panties down her legs because when he sits between her legs and places a hand on each of her knees, she allows him to spread her legs as wide as he wants. 

Her pussy is even more perfect than he remembers and he wants to say something other than “fuck,” but it’s the only thing he can manage because he suddenly feels more nervous than the first time she’d ever allowed him to do this to her.

It’s been years, but he remembers exactly how to flick his tongue along her labia, and exactly how to suckle at her clit. The precise suction is like muscle memory for his plush lips, and he draws sounds out of her he never thought he’d hear her make again, at least not at the hands (or mouth) of him. Her folds are so familiar to his mouth, he can’t help but moan against her, inhale her scent as his tongue thrusts inside of her and his nose nudges her clit.

He tugs back on the hood with his thumb so his tongue can flick freely at the 8,000 nerve endings bundled there. 

He wants to remind her how good he is. That no one could ever do to her what he can. 

When he fills her with two of his fingers, he can’t believe how much it turns him on to see his watch rub along her inner thigh. 

“Ben!” The volume with which she screams his name tells him she’s close, so he sucks more poignantly at her clit and eases a third finger inside of her. 

He’d never felt her so wet. He laps at her around his fingers, the sweet-bitter juices her body is producing for him more intoxicating than the bottle of champagne they’d shared downstairs. And when he flicks his tongue out repeatedly, focusing on applying consistent pressure to her clit, he feels her before he hears her.

Her walls clench down around his fingers so hard, he can’t imagine how there’s even room for them inside of her. But he holds them steady as he lessens the pressure of his tongue on her clit and revels on her cunt pulsing around him and the hardened nub under the tip of his tongue.

Her breathing calms slightly, but his lips consume her clit again. Because he knows she needs to come more than once with his fingers inside to take all of him. He needs her as wet and relaxed as possible. 

He feels her stretching around his fingers, all three of them, and she’s quite literally dripping down his wrist. He’d never felt her like  _ this _ before and this time when she comes, she screams his name so loudly, he hopes at least one of the whisperers is sharing a wall with her. It would serve them well.

“God, you will always be the best at that,” she tells him and his pride swells, his cock throbs.

He wants to climb over her, feel her skin against his, but decides that if this is the last time, he needs to be able to see her. So he sits back on his haunches as she bites the tip of her finger and looks up at him. He ignores the shine in her eyes as he lifts her hips off the bed and revels in his nearly touching thumbs beneath her navel, his fingers nearly connecting behind her lower back.

He pumps himself twice before pressing the tip to her entrance and instead of pushing into her, he pulls her against him. Rey cries out as he fills her completely on the first thrust and pushes her out just to pull her back in.

Ben’s eyes are transfixed on where their bodies are connected. It’s been so long since he’s watched himself sink inside of her. He still can’t comprehend how her small body takes all of him, but the thought causes him to jolt forward. 

His hair has fallen into his face like a curtain but it’s okay because he watches her hips rock to meet his thrusts and he can’t believe he ever walked away from this.

She’s just so fucking tiny.

He wants to stay here in this bed with her forever and the last two years will have been an intermission between Act I of their relationship, and Act II, their happily ever after.

It’s then that he hears it.

Her inhales, loud and jagged, like her breaths are scaling a ladder. Ben’s eyes climb her body to meet hers and when he looks at her face, he stops. Balancing himself on one hand, he pushes his hair back with the other.

When she looks up at him with tears in her eyes, he realizes,  _ this  _ is the intermission; the moment of truth. And their happily ever after may not be beginning, after all. 

“Rey,” he whispers, lowering his non weight-bearing hand to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His thumb wipes away a single tear that’s left a streak in her makeup in its wake. “Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“Don’t stop,” she says, her eyes still squeezed shut, her cheek on the mattress. “Please, Ben. Please don’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he says. “Rey.”

She inhales again, her unsteady gasp so alarming, he moves to pull out of her. This causes her to open her eyes as she wraps a leg around his waist, keeping him still. “Don’t stop,” she says. “Please.”

When her eyes open completely, more tears spill over her bottom lashes, and outer corners. Ben slowly grinds his hips into hers as he presses his lips to her cheek, kissing her tears. One races toward her ear and he catches it with the tip of his tongue, licking its path slowly. 

He tastes the makeup on her face as it mixes with the salt of her tears. He knows what her skin tastes like, and this chalky, tangy fragrance is not it.

He licks and kisses her cheeks anyway.

He’s never going to come if he maintains this torturous pace, but Rey’s not complaining, so neither will he, because maybe they can stay like this forever.

Maybe she’s thinking it, too.

Because more tears fall and she begs him not to stop, she begs him for more, she wants it harder. So he sits up once again, grips her hips tighter, and uses her cunt as it glides up and down by proxy of his grip.

His hand is big enough that he’s able to keep his fingers wrapped around her hip and rub her clit with his thumb. Her spine arches higher than the clutch he has on her, and he’s able to hold her ass up off the bed effortlessly.

Her pussy pulls him in deeper when she comes again, and the pressure on his cock becomes so much, he can’t take it anymore and it’s just three sloppy pumps before he’s swelling and slipping deep inside of her, his thrusts unwavering as he pushes it in deeper. He’s spent a few thrusts later, but propels into her nonetheless, desperate to leave every last drop inside of her. 

When he collapses next to her, she turns toward him and places a hand on his chest. He knows she wants to curl up against him, press the front of her body to the side of his so his ribs can dig into her breasts, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she turns away and pulls his arm over her body so he can spoon her. And he pulls her back against his front so tightly, he can already feel the sweat pooling between them as he drops kisses wherever he can find skin.

He thinks she’s stopped crying, though she hasn’t spoken and more than half of her face is hidden in her pillow. 

So Ben kisses her arm, he kisses her neck and arm and tightens his grip around her middle just to remind her how right this is, how perfectly she fits in all of the crooks of his body. 

He wants to tell her he loves her. Like he always used to after fucking her. He wants her to say it to him and giggle and kiss his lips and climb on top of him and grind her pelvis into his until he’s hard again and she’s on top this time and she clutches her own tits and runs her hands through his hair and rides him with all the confidence he wishes he had in himself. 

But she’s so still.

He wants to just whisper everything.

_ I love you. _

_ I'm sorry. I know we both are. _

_ Can we forgive each other? _

_ Can we move past this? _

_ Can I stay? _

When Rey finally stirs, he wonders if he should leave. It would be the worst middle of the night walk of shame of all time if he had to crawl back to his parents’ room, clothes disheveled, reeking of sex, and knock on the door to have them let him in. 

It would be less awkward if he knocked on the bride and groom’s suite, probably. 

At least, it would certainly yield fewer questions. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks, planting an open-mouthed kiss below her ear and to the right of the hickey he’d left earlier.

She doesn’t respond. 

She’s so still, he presses his hand to her throat. Ben feels her pulse and he hears her whimper. So he gently tightens his grip and asks again. “Rey, should I leave?” 

After swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Ben stands. He picks his right foot up off the floor, his eyes scanning the room for his clothes, when a tiny hand wraps tightly around his wrist. 

Rey looks up at him with pleading eyes and whispers his name and then- 

  
“Stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thank you for coming on this journey with me! I hope you take from this ending whatever you'd like.
> 
> Two tags were "happily ever after if you squint" and "ambiguous/open ending" because you might agree that these two aren't great for one another. Or maybe you're hopeful that they'll be able to work past their hurt.
> 
> Either way, thank you for reading! ❤️ I had a blast participating in the Reylo Evermore collection!
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UHadMeAt_Reylo)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to know your thoughts.
> 
> I'm planning to have all 3 parts of this story uploaded before New Year's Eve!
> 
> And I'm on I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UHadMeAt_Reylo) !


End file.
